Blood and Inheritance

The first night back, I couldn’t stop calling Adrian. Not only had he skipped meeting me at the airport, but now he’d vanished altogether. It was beyond outrageous.

I thought back to when I first stepped through the door earlier. The living room walls were plastered with Serena’s photos. There was not a single one of Lila.

What the hell was this? A cuckoo taking over the nest?

Even our family portrait had been taken down. Absolutely unforgivable.

Two years ago, I remembered clearly when Adrian first brought Serena into this house. She had been dressed plainly then, clearly just a country girl.

Adrian claimed he’d had a car accident, driven off the road into the water, and that Serena had risked her life to pull him out.

He told me she had a good heart, was kind, and the same age as Lila. He wanted to adopt her as his goddaughter, to bring her into our home so Lila would have a companion, and, in his words, to "strengthen the Ashford family".

I had objected fiercely.

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand gratitude. I was willing to help her financially, support her living expenses, and even make sure she was cared for. But to move her into our home, under the same roof as my daughter, day in and day out? What was that supposed to mean?

Adrian insisted he and Serena were "fated". When I refused, he threatened to go on a hunger strike and accused me of being heartless.

In the end, I gave in, telling myself I’d find a way to send her off quietly after a little while. I never imagined that in just two years, Serena would be acting as if this house were hers.

In the early morning hours, noises from the courtyard woke me.

I yanked open the curtains and nearly choked. Serena was outside, holding a meeting with a squad of bodyguards.

What kind of scene was this? To anyone watching, it would look like she was staging a coup.

My temper flared instantly. Since when did the bodyguards answer to her? I had to see for myself what this girl was up to.

I hurried downstairs. Passing her room, I caught sight of all the gifts I’d brought home from abroad piled inside; most were still unopened with the wrapping untouched.

Before I could process the insult, Serena’s sharp, commanding voice carried up from below.

I stormed down the stairs.

There she stood, head high, chest out, posturing like some lady of the manor. "My mom’s back now! From here on out, you’d better watch what you say. Security levels in this house are to be raised. No idle gossip, no nonsense, no dirty rumors. Keep them to yourselves, understood?"

The way she lorded over them, she looked every bit the seasoned schemer. To anyone else, she’d appear the mistress of this house.

I forced my rage into ice and stepped forward. My voice cut through the air. "What the hell is going on here? Since when does Serena run this household? Funny, I don’t recall handing her the reins."

The lead bodyguard, Rachel Vaughn, caught sight of me and exhaled with relief. She was usually closest to me and reported to me directly.

I turned a glare on Serena. "You’d better recognize your place. If there’s ever a next time, pack your things and get out."

In front of so many witnesses, I didn’t spare her an ounce of dignity. Her face turned red with fury. She stammered, trying to cover. "Mom, I… I was just excited to see you back. I wanted to share some of the burden—"

"Enough," I cut her off coldly. "Why are Lila’s gifts in your room? And this outfit—head to toe designer labels—where did it come from? Who bought it? A single coat costing tens of thousands? Who gave you permission to spend like this?"

Her head dropped, her voice shrinking. "It… it was Dad. He said I studied hard. That it was a reward."

"Take it off right this instance. I’ll be canceling all your cards. If I catch you wasting money again, you’ll be out of this house for good."

Instead of backing down, Serena snapped, her tone sharp with defiance, "You don’t control me! I spend Dad’s money, not yours!"